


Blindsided

by skinandearth



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2015-12-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 09:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5328401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skinandearth/pseuds/skinandearth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt for Polyshipping Day (December 2015). Chris breaks his leg, but lucky for him, Brad and Patrice are there to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blindsided

They lost the game.

 

Kells was skating, skating hard, eyes on the puck and ready, reaching… He was blindsided. Marchy and Bergy leaned over slightly, taking in the scene. Marchy went pale when he saw Kells’s face contorted in pain, pounding his fist on the ice in a wordless scream. Zee stood close, watching as the trainers hovered around Kells, asking questions and bending the limb slightly. He tried to get up, but collapsed back onto his side, wincing in pain as the trainers and Zee pulled him up, leg dangling as he was slowly slid back to the bench. Bergy tapped his shoulder as he went down the tunnel, face pale and drawn.

 

Segs got a hat trick, and it just kept going downhill from there. It felt like they were skating in circles through syrup, moving nowhere, uncoordinated and unfocused. The locker room after the game was quiet, eerie as they waited for news on their teammate. When Claude came in, face neutral and serious, they knew it wasn’t good.

 

“Chris is currently in the hospital. He’s going to be undergoing surgery tomorrow morning, to repair a broken femur. He’ll be out for at least 6 months, probably more.”

 

The men looked at each other, shocked and unnerved by the news. Loui sat down heavily in his stall, head in his hands. Zee looked pissed, as did Adam, wanting nothing more than to turn back the clock and prevent the accident from ever happening. Somewhere in the back of his head, Patrice knew that it was the nature of the game, that freak injuries happened, but his mind was fogged, leaning against the wall as he tried to digest the news that one of his best friends was so seriously hurt.

 

“Patrice, come on. The only thing we can do is go home, we’ll hang out at the hospital tomorrow and make sure he’s okay, yeah?” Marchy gently tugged on his arm, leading him out to the car. The ride home was silent, mournful even as the pair tugged their game-day suits off, falling into bed together and moving into the too-large space that their best friend took up. Marchy wrapped his arms around Bergy’s torso, pushing his face into his chest as Patrice’s arms rubbed up and down his back. They were quiet as they fell asleep, not knowing what words could be used to fill the void.

 

The next morning, both abandoned their regular routines in favour of getting to the hospital as quickly as they could. When they arrived, they saw Zee at the nurse’s station, arguing with the desk nurse. Brad and Patrice walked up next to him.

 

“I am his captain, and also one of his secondary medical proxies. There has to be something you can tell me!” His face was calm, but the tone of his voice betrayed his demeanor. The big man was pissed, and rightfully so.

 

“I’m sorry, sir, but all I can tell you is that he’s currently in surgery, and is scheduled to be out around 11 or so. If you’d like, I can set you up in a conference room so you can speak with his doctor after,” She stared back with an equally hard expression.

 

“That’d be great, thanks,” Patrice said, interrupting before Zee could start yelling.

 

“Will it be the three of you?”

 

Patrice nodded. The nurse stood up, beckoning for the men to follow her as they walked a short ways down the hallway. The conference room was nice, if a little small, the three men sitting down around the table as the nurse shut the door. Brad played on his phone for a short while, glancing up every once in a while to see Zee pacing near the door. He rolled his eyes.

 

“Zee, come on. You need to sit down, or you’re gonna wear a hole in the floor,” He chirped.

 

Zee turned his head, “How can I sit down when my best friend is in emergency surgery, and I can’t even get any information on him!”

 

Patrice stood up, putting a hand on his shoulder, “He’s our best friend too. Trust me, we both know how you feel. But pacing isn’t helping at all, so why not just sit down for a few minutes? It’s almost 11, the doctor should be here soon.”

 

Zee nodded, shoulders sagging. He sat heavily next to Brad, folding his hands on the table and staring at the wall. The trio jumped as the door opened, a man in clean blue scrubs coming in.

 

“Family of Chris Kelly?” He asked. The trio nodded.

 

“Is he okay?” Brad asked immediately. He nodded.

 

“Don’t worry, Chris is fine. I’m Dr. Marshall, the lead surgeon on this case. Right now he’s in his room, waiting for the anesthesia to wear off.”

 

“What’s the damage?” Patrice asked softly. The doctor frowned, shuffling a few folders in his hands.

 

“Let me show you. I’m sure by now you know it was a break?” They nodded again.

 

“Well, if you’ll take a look up here,” He pinned an x-ray to a light on the wall. “He has a clean femoral break in the middle of the bone, which should heal without any complications provided he stays off his feet for a while. We pinned the bone back together to aide in the healing process, that entire process with rehab shouldn’t take more than 8 months.”

 

“So he won’t be back until…”

 

“The middle of April at the earliest. He can start skating again in mid March, but he’s going to miss out on the Winter Classic.”

 

Zee sagged, “No… he was so excited for that…”

 

“I’m sorry boys, we’ve done everything we can. Now it’s just waiting for it to heal, and making sure it heals right. He’s very healthy, so it’s entirely possible that he’ll heal earlier than expected.”

 

Patrice nodded, “When can he come home?”

 

“He can go home Friday. We want to keep him a couple of days for observation, just to make sure we didn’t miss anything. I can take you up to see him now if you’d like.”

 

Brad jumped up, pulling Patrice with him, “Well what are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

 

Dr. Marshall chuckled as he opened the door, letting the hockey players out before himself, before leading them to his room. When they got there, Patrice paused outside the door, steeling himself before going in.

 

Kells was a sight. He was attached to monitors and tubes and needles, cannula wrapped around his head. His face was pale in the harsh light, eyes closed as his chest rose and fell slowly. His leg was propped up, wrapped in a yellow cast.

 

Brad gently touched his shoulder, rubbing down the length of his arm as the older man’s face twitched slightly. Patrice came forward next, gently touching his cheek as Brad shifted away slightly. He pulled up chairs, the pair taking vigil next to their friends bed as they waited for him to wake up.

 

They didn’t wait long. After a few minutes, Kells groaned softly, face twitching as his eyes blinked open. Patrice took his hand, rubbing the digits in his palm as Kells’s head turned, eyes focusing on the face in front of him. Patrice smiled.

 

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

 

“Ça fait mal,” Kells winces again as his leg shifts.

 

Patrice’s hand shifts to his hair, stroking the dark brown locks gently as the mans eyes close, “Je sais, l'amour, je suis désolé.”

 

He shifts again. Brad comes up, trailing his fingers up Chris’s other hip, all the way to his ribs and shoulder, “It’s okay, we’re here now.”

 

He smiled slightly, “Merci.”

 

They stayed for a little while longer after that, the silence hanging over them like a blanket. Chris only let them leave after they both promised to return the next day, finally getting to take him back home that Friday. And if he complained the whole way home about his leg, well, it was worth it.

 

The trio laid in bed for the rest of the day, taking turns helping Kells to the bathroom and kitchen even as he protested every step of the way. Patrice took his head in his hands, forcing the veteran forward to look at him.

 

“Christopher, look at me. We are going to take care of you. You’re in pain, you can’t walk, and you’re a stubborn man. I know it’s frustrating, but you need to allow us to care for you. We both love you, Chris. Just let us help,” Patrice’s eyes softened as he saw tears glittering in Chris’s. He pulled the man close, shifting on the bed so he could cuddle the man close, rubbing his back as Chris pushed his face into the juncture of Patrice’s neck. Brad came in soon after, plate of fruit in hand as his face went from shock to worry. He abandoned the food on the dresser as he slid into the bed next to the pair.

 

“Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas, mon amour?” He asked softly, running his fingers through Chris’s hair.

 

“He’ll be okay. Just frustrated,” Patrice whispered. Chris nodded, pulling away and wiping his eyes. Brad smiled, pecking the older man on the forehead as he got up, grabbing the abandoned food and setting it in front of the pair. Patrice laid Chris back onto the bed, propping him up on several pillows as Brad plucked a strawberry from the plate, pushing it between Chris’s lips. He smiled, chewing slowly as he watched Patrice fiddle with the TV, queueing up a movie and settling next to him. Brad sat on his other side, gently leaning on his shoulder as he grabbed another piece of fruit.

 

“You don’t need to feed me, you know,” Kells griped.

  
“Oh, shut up old man. Quit being such a grump and let me do this,” Brad chirped, pushing the grape between his lips before he could protest more. Patrice laughed, leaning over to kiss Kells gently. The man tasted like sweet fruit, lips moving softly against Patrice’s as the movie started. After they broke away, Brad pulled in, gently pushing Kells back onto the bed. They spent the rest of the day like that, trading lazy kisses as they worked through the movies and food. That night, they laid in a tangle of limbs, breathing as one as the moon rose and set.

**Author's Note:**

> Ça fait mal - It hurts  
> Je sais, l'amour, je suis désolé - I know, love, I’m sorry  
> Merci - Thank you  
> Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas, mon amour? - What’s wrong, my love?
> 
> Happy Polyshipping Day!


End file.
